Cleaning is traumatic – and yet, it continues in the studio.
Timna came to my rescue this morning, and went shopping in my boxes of printed fabric. I'm doing more and more of my work with batiks and hand dyes, and just not feeling the love for these fabrics that they deserve. So we took two huge bins of quilting cottons, and she had a free fabric experience and chose a huge pile of things that spoke to her. But the bins still didn't fit easily in their shelves. So I sat in front of the bins and picked up every single piece of fabric. She took the pieces I picked up and did not love and put them in a bag to go away.
The bins contain only the fabric I LOVE right at this very moment.
It fells very different – I peer in, and no past projects whisper snide comments to me about failure to commit, no ugly things whine about lack of use. The only thing I see are all these fabrics I just LURVE beyond reason. Freeing!
Tomorrow, I address the box of silks and exotics. Already the floor is clearer (I do feel like an ad for acne medication at moment) and I can think better.